


Tension

by drkangel721



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:09:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drkangel721/pseuds/drkangel721
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal tries to help Will with his headaches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly AU as of Episode 9, so let's pretend it takes place before then. :) Constructive criticism is welcomed.

Will sat in Hannibal’s office, staring at the floor and saying nothing; he was so tired. His nightmares were becoming so vivid that even when he did get a full night’s sleep, he awoke feeling just as unrested as the night he spent sleepwalking the roads of Wolf Trap. His headaches were almost constant now--even with the pills--ranging throughout the day from a dull throb at the base of his skull, to an intense bilateral pounding that made him feel like someone was using his head as a drum.

His current headache was quickly building into the second type. He closed his eyes and pressed his hands against his face, willing the pain to stop. As usual, the gesture was ineffective. He started to wish that he had canceled this session and could curl up somewhere dark and silent. He imagined that Hannibal was probably not the kind of person who appreciated his time being wasted.  

Hannibal shifted in his seat. “Will,” he said, “you seem to be in a lot of pain today.”

Will nodded, but kept his eyes firmly shut. Even the dim lights in the room were starting to aggravate his headache.

“May I attempt something that might alleviate your symptoms?” Hannibal said, and Will heard the rustle of his suit as he rose and moved to stand behind Will’s chair. He nodded his acquiescence without caring what Hannibal was asking of him. Anything that might make the pain more bearable was all right with him.

When Hannibal’s fingers brushed lightly across his temples, he flinched and his eyes flew open. Though the intimacy of their conversations had helped Will grow to trust him, at least to the extent that was possible for him, being touched by anyone was difficult; unexpected touching was exponentially worse. He had a hard enough time just looking Hannibal in the eyes when they talked.

“What are you doing?” he asked, trying not to sound brusque.

“I am a firm believer in alternative methods of treatment,” he said. “If the medication you’re taking isn’t helping, why not try something else? Relax, Will.”

Will sighed. “If only it were that easy.”

Hannibal’s hands drifted down to rest on his neck, just under the hairline, on either side of his spine. With firm pressure, he massaged the area with his thumbs, moving slowly down to the base of Will’s neck, then back up again, the warmth from his hands radiating down into the stiff muscles. Will’s skin prickled wherever Hannibal touched him.

Will closed his eyes once more. It was a bit disconcerting, Hannibal’s hands on him. He couldn’t think of another time that Hannibal had initiated physical contact, probably out of respect for perceived boundaries. Still, it was obvious that he knew what he was doing and it felt good. He thought of the delicious and, frankly, artful meals he had already enjoyed at Hannibal’s hands and joked, “Is there anything you can’t do?” He cringed when he heard how loud he sounded in the quiet room.

Hannibal shushed him gently, then returned his fingertips to Will’s temples and began to rub circles into his pliant skin, moving forwards and backwards with slow, even motions. Will focused on the steady beat of his own heart, and allowed his breathing to even out. After a few minutes of this Hannibal paused, but didn’t break the contact between them.

“Will,” he said. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” he said, matching his low tone. “It feels good.” He meant it, too. In focusing on the repetitious movements made by Hannibal’s hands, he had forgotten about the pain in his head. And, in doing so, had relaxed enough that much of the tension contributing to the headache itself had dissipated. It wasn’t gone entirely, but had faded to little more than an echo of its previous intensity.

When Hannibal’s fingertips slid from Will’s temples to just above his ears and began to massage the skin there, a shiver shot up Will’s spine. His breath caught in his throat. Hannibal paused for a fraction of a second, then gradually moved his hands upwards until he was stroking circles into the scalp on the top of Will’s head. Will couldn’t remember ever having his head explored so thoroughly by hands other than his own. It was...enjoyable. He realized that his pulse was jumping erratically in his throat and thought that perhaps he was enjoying himself too much. He had never realized how sensitive his scalp was. Hannibal’s fingertips drifted slowly to the back of his head, massaging all the while, and Will inadvertently let out a sigh of pleasure. His face grew hot with embarrassment but, still, Hannibal made no comment and merely continued his ministrations.  

After massaging the area just above Will’s neck in the same manner, Hannibal started to take away his hands. “Don’t-” Will began, before clamping his mouth shut.

Hannibal paused. “Yes, Will?”

Will imagined the smirk Hannibal was undoubtedly making behind him. His heart was thudding loudly now; he wondered if Hannibal could hear it as well. He opened his mouth intending to say never mind, but what came out was, “More.” His voice sounded rough to his ears. He twisted his body in the chair so that he could look up into Hannibal’s face. “Please?” he added, his voice pitched low. He noticed that the corner of Hannibal’s mouth twitched at the word.

Hannibal’s nostrils flared, like an animal scenting the air. The tension between them was palpable. He nodded, and Will turned back around quickly. Looking into Hannibal’s impossibly dark eyes for too long made his head swim.

Hannibal buried his fingers in Will’s hair and started to massage above his ears again, where he was the most sensitive. He stroked the curve of an ear with his thumb, and Will felt a shudder run through his entire body, settling unmistakably in his groin. He thought suddenly of what Jack had told him of Hannibal’s incredibly sensitive nose, and wondered if he could smell the fact that he was aroused. He found that the idea actually turned him on even more: Hannibal being so attuned to him.

Hannibal’s hands stilled. “Will,” he said, his voice sounding a bit strained. “Tell me what you want.”

“I-I don’t know,” he said. And it was the truth. All he knew was that he hadn’t felt this alive, this present, in such a long time. The voices of killers and victims that constantly filled his head and clamored for his attention had been silenced. Even so, Hannibal was unofficially his doctor and he knew that they were very close to crossing an ethical line. More than that, Will thought of him as a friend, and he didn’t really have many of those to spare.

Hannibal came around from behind the chair and braced himself on the armrests, leaning forward so that their faces were just inches apart. “Don’t you?” he said.

Will felt skewered by the intensity of Hannibal’s stare; he couldn’t look away. One of Hannibal’s hands came up to cup his jaw, the thumb moving to brush against his lips. Impulsively, Will flicked out his tongue to lick the digit, and he was rewarded by Hannibal’s mouth slowly curving into a wicked smile.

Will leaned forward, but Hannibal moved back and up, out of reach--Will scrambling out of the chair to follow--until they were both standing. Will’s hands were shaking, and he balled them up into fists at his sides. Hannibal’s expensive suit suddenly seemed like an insurmountable barrier; Will wasn’t really sure what he should do next. Images of Hannibal’s deft hands running along the contours of his body flashed behind his eyes.

Hannibal took off his suit coat and laid it across the back of his chair. He reached out and grabbed a handful of Will’s sweater, pulled him flush against his body, then crushed their mouths together. Will opened up eagerly to Hannibal’s tongue. His whole body felt like it was humming. He fumbled blindly with the buttons on Hannibal’s vest, but his hands were batted away. One of Hannibal’s hands slid to the small of his back and then slipped underneath the fabric there; the heat of it against Will’s naked skin felt like a brand. He could feel Hannibal’s erection pressing against his own and he imagined dropping to his knees and taking it into his hands. He moaned into Hannibal’s mouth.

Just then, there was a knock at the waiting room door, and Will sprang away from Hannibal like he’d been doused with cold water. He couldn’t keep a disappointed whine out of his voice when he asked, “Are you expecting a patient?”

Hannibal glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid so. I suppose I lost track of the time.” He gave Will’s body an appraising once-over, and Will looked away, uncomfortable now that the taut mood had been shattered. Hannibal straightened his disheveled hair and clothes, then led the way to the door. Will noticed that he wasn’t even breathing heavily.

Will ran a hand over his mussed curls, even though he knew the gesture was futile. He itched to touch Hannibal one last time, but it was clear that he had effortlessly slipped back into professional mode and wanted Will to leave. Will grabbed the doorknob and felt a twinge low in his belly when Hannibal moved to cover his hand with his own. “Until next time,” he said into Will’s ear. It wasn’t a question.

When Hannibal released him, Will opened the door and practically fled through the foyer. After exiting the building, he hesitated, his pulse slowing. He entertained the idea of going back in and waiting until Hannibal was finished in the hope that they might pick up where they left off. In the end his nerve failed him; if Hannibal had wanted him to wait he would have said so. As he got into his car to drive away, he hoped at least that tonight thoughts of Hannibal might be enough to keep the nightmares at bay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will comes back for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't originally intending to write another chapter, but here it is all the same. :) Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Will paced the waiting room, too anxious to sit. It had only been a few days since he had last seen Hannibal, but he’d done nothing but replay their previous encounter over and over in his head since then. Will figured by now that he had committed every touch, every heated look, to memory. Thinking about it made him ache.

When the door to the office opened, Will spun on the spot. “Good evening, Will,” Hannibal said. His smile was neutral, and he gestured for Will to enter the room.

Will stepped across the threshold and waited for Hannibal to close the door, his heart racing with anticipation. However, Hannibal brushed past him and went to arrange something on his desk, unaware of Will’s state--or affecting unawareness, at any rate. Will stood there dumbly, staring at his back. The horrifying thought popped into his mind that he had dreamed the whole thing up, and he went cold all over.

“Will.” He started at Hannibal’s voice. “Take off your jacket and come here.” When Will looked up, he saw that Hannibal was leaning against the desk in his dress shirt, top button undone and tie loosened. His suit coat and vest were slung over the back of the desk chair.

Will unzipped his jacket and let it slide to the floor. Hannibal glanced to where it had fallen in a crumpled heap, but made no comment. He approached Hannibal, already half-hard. His palms were sweating.

Hannibal reached for him and pulled Will’s shirt out of his jeans, methodically undoing each button. Will lowered his gaze to follow the progress of Hannibal’s fingers, impressed by his self-control, but frustrated with how things were progressing. He wanted to rip the damn thing off and feel Hannibal’s hands against his skin. He huffed with annoyance.

“Patience, Will,” Hannibal said, not looking up. When the shirt was completely unbuttoned, he pulled it from Will’s arms and laid it on the desk; the t-shirt he was wearing underneath it soon followed. He noticed that Hannibal had cleared everything from the desk but the lamp and he shivered.

Will fought the urge to cross his arms against his bare chest. He didn’t have any particular qualms with his body, but the scrutiny with which Hannibal was staring at him made him feel exposed. An image surfaced in his mind of cadavers lying cold and naked in the morgue and he shook his head to dispel it.

“Are you all right, Will?” Hannibal said.

Will’s eyes flicked to Hannibal’s, then danced away again. “Yeah, I was just thinking of something else.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Will snorted laughter. “Are you serious? No, I don’t want to talk about it. I want--” He broke off, feeling awkward about voicing just what he wanted Hannibal to do to him. He wished that the other man would take control of the situation instead of trying to draw embarrassing admissions from him.

Perhaps sensing Will’s discomfort, Hannibal leaned forward and kissed him, his hand coming up to rest on Will’s hip. Will pressed his body against the other man’s and deepened the kiss, sliding his hand around to the back of his head to hold it in place while he tasted Hannibal’s mouth. In response, Hannibal’s hand snaked up his chest and, to Will’s surprise, pinched his nipple.

Will gasped and broke the kiss, turning his head to the side. Immediately, Hannibal’s mouth was hot against his ear. “You’re so sensitive, Will.” He cupped his erection through his jeans and Will ground against his hand, whimpering.

Will felt like he was burning up and he realized he could come just from this minimal contact. He couldn’t stand it. With more than a little difficulty, he pulled away from Hannibal’s hands and dropped to his knees. He scrabbled at the button on Hannibal’s trousers until it came loose, then pulled down the zipper. After pushing the bottom of his dress shirt up and out of the way, he pulled Hannibal’s cock free from the confines of his briefs. He swirled his tongue experimentally around the head, and felt gratified when he heard Hannibal groan above him. When he took the length of him into his mouth as far as he could without gagging, Hannibal reached down and tangled his hands in Will’s curls.

“Will,” he said, his voice rough, “look at me.”

Will looked up but stared at Hannibal’s kiss-swollen mouth, unwilling to meet his eyes. Hannibal tugged at his hair hard enough to make Will’s eyes water and he flicked his gaze upward, trying to give him what he wanted. Hannibal’s eyes were dark, the pupils blown wide, and when Will met his stare he started to thrust into his mouth. When the pace began to increase, Will gripped Hannibal’s thighs for balance and concentrated on swallowing and keeping his teeth covered. He hummed around Hannibal’s cock.

Hannibal’s grip on his hair tightened and then he was coming down Will’s throat. Will’s eyes widened in surprise but he did his best to swallow. When Hannibal relaxed his hands, Will wrenched himself away, wiping his mouth and coughing. “A little warning next time, huh?” he said. He stood up, still painfully hard despite his annoyance.

Hannibal tucked himself back into his clothes, his expression inscrutable. He was a bit flushed but seemed to Will to be composed otherwise. “My apologies,” he said, though Will wasn’t sure that he sounded all that sincere. The smile he gave him then was full of promise and Will felt his cock twitch in response. Hannibal opened his arms in invitation and when Will went into them he turned and pushed him backwards against the desk. Hannibal undid Will’s jeans and shoved his hand inside, finding Will’s cock and stroking it firmly, his thumb brushing against the head.

Will’s breathing stuttered and he turned his head to the side, baring his neck. Hannibal took this as an invitation to nuzzle below his ear and Will jumped at the sensation, his cock pulsing in Hannibal’s hand. Sparks flashed between his closed eyelids. When he felt Hannibal’s mouth on his neck, he turned his head further to give him better access. Suddenly, Hannibal bit down hard enough at the juncture between neck and shoulder to actually hurt. Will cried out and came hard all over his stomach. When Hannibal released him, he sat back on the edge of the desk to keep from sliding to the floor.

Hannibal moved away and returned with a box of tissues. Will took one, his hands shaking, and cleaned himself up while Hannibal returned the box to the side table. He rubbed a hand against his sore shoulder and checked it for blood. There was none, but he was sure it was going to bruise. He reached for his t-shirt and slid it over his head, then pulled on his button-down shirt. He looked up to find Hannibal staring at him. He had already tucked his shirt back into his trousers. When their eyes met he approached Will and began to button his shirt for him. Will’s mouth quirked at the gesture and while Hannibal was looking elsewhere he took the opportunity to allow his eyes to roam over the familiar planes of his face, and wondered again if he hadn’t made a terrible mistake. He already relied on Hannibal so much, but he had nothing to offer in return. He frowned, wondering how long it would take for Hannibal to tire of looking after him. He knew from experience that it was inevitable.

Hannibal finished doing up the final button and stepped away. He must have noticed Will’s expression, because he cocked his head and said, “Are you having regrets, Will?” He sounded concerned.

Will forced a smile. “Of course not,” he said, but he knew Hannibal wasn’t fooled. Will was a terrible liar in general--his face was far too expressive--and he had never met anyone as perceptive as Hannibal. It was what made him such a brilliant psychiatrist.

Though for now at least, it seemed Hannibal was going to let the lie slide. He nodded and reached down to retrieve Will’s jacket from the floor. Will put it on and then hesitated. It had been an embarrassingly long time since he had been intimate with someone, and he wasn’t sure what the protocol was.

Hannibal smiled at him and said, “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Will found that he was disappointed that their evening was concluding so soon, but he said nothing and followed him outside. When they reached the car, Will put one hand on the door handle, but didn’t open it.

“Have a good night,” Hannibal said. “Call me if you need anything.” He turned to go.

“Hannibal,” Will said, and he saw his shoulders stiffen. Will thought back on all the time they had spent together and realized he had never called Hannibal by his given name. He liked how it felt on his lips.

Hannibal faced him again. “Yes, Will?”

“What-” He paused, feeling heat rising in his face. He hoped that it was too dark for Hannibal to notice. “What does this mean for us?” He hated how vulnerable the words made him sound, but he had to know.

Hannibal smiled at him. “I’m here for you, Will. Anything you need.” He took Will’s face in his hands and kissed him long and deep, and Will felt a burn in his chest that had nothing to do with lust.

Then Hannibal was gone, making his way into the building. He didn’t look back. Will got into his car and put the key in the ignition. He realized that Hannibal hadn’t really answered his question and wondered what that meant. He guessed that there was nothing he could do but wait and see what happened.


End file.
